Reflection

As I left the house today, I saw my reflection in the window of my car. I saw a stranger looking back at me. A clown. Face powdered with detail. Browns and greens dusted on my eyelids. Eyelashes curled and smothered in black mascara and lips touched in pink. My hair was nicely combed back into a small pony tale with a headband adding more volume. My clothes hung nicely on my body. Necklace dangling without any care. Jeans grasping to my legs all the way down to my ankles and then folded up for a cute little stylish touch. Toes are covered in a grey pair of toms. I tried to ignore how uncomfortable I felt with myself. Trying to be someone else. But now, as I am sitting here in math class listening to the teacher talk about the complications of the week, I look down and see my perfectly painted nails and smell the girly lotion that I rubbed into my skin seconds before I walked out the door. Is this me? Kayla? Underneath the make-up and jewelry. Why am I like this today? What is this different feeling? Maybe my conscience has come to the conclusion that I am now again on the look for boys. 
Now I search around the room and see the competition. There is a girl wearing a sweatshirt and hair thrown back.  Those weird toes shoes and reading an animal rescue website. Another girl who has obvious self confidence. Bright pink lipstick and large jewelry pieces. A dress with cheetah print and an attitude that just stinks up the room. There are girls who have bows in their hair, girls talking about how this is their first semester and that they love that they can "do anything they want". Quiet girls who observe those around. Girls who I would love to take under my wing and teach them about tweezers. This campus is filled with girls. My goal is to overcome this feeling of a stranger looking back at me in the reflection. I need to find that happy medium between not feeling like a stranger dressed up and my self shining through. Its not about who I am impressing. But it should be who catches my eye. If someone could just takes the chance to get to know me, for me. I would be pleased. I don't know how the future is going to unfold. I don't know if the time spent putting powder on my face and painting my finger nails will be worth it. But something inside of me is afraid I can't be any less.